Imladris
by MyLadyLorna
Summary: While Frodo lies wounded in Elrond's house, the hobbits deal with the pain of nearly losing their cousin and friend along with the guilt that they could not protect him. Please R&R.
1. The Balm

**Imladris: Chapter One - The Balm**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _The Lord of the Rings _belong to the franchises for Tolkien ™ and The Lord of the Rings ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** G

**Characters: **Merry, Elrohir, and Pippin

I never thought I'd actually post this on I wrote it about a year and a half ago, when _The Lord of the Rings_ reigned eternal in my mind. But I suppose it should be shared. So here is Chapter One, of my story, _Imladris._ I'll post the other chapters in increments.

>>>>>>>

The gentle breeze caressed Merry's fine, sandy-colored locks back from his face, but did nothing to assuage the ache in his heart. The beautiful gardens of Elrond's house went unnoticed by his blank eyes, staring ahead aimlessly. The memories were hard to contend with. He kept seeing them again and again as if on a continuous reel; he and Pippin being ruthlessly shoved aside, Frodo backing away desperately, the stab, the scream that pierced the hollows of his ears. Merry's head sagged forward. He had failed Frodo. He and Pippin, as Frodo's cousins, should have stood up to the wraiths more then they had. And because of their weakness, Frodo had gotten injured, almost fatally so.

Merry silently stood from the stone bench he had been sitting on, and looked out over the valley of Imladris. It truly was beautiful, he thought in anguish, but of what use was it. He couldn't help but feel that he didn't deserve to see these wonders and beauty. Not with his beloved cousin so ill. The soothing hand on Merry's shoulder shocked him out of the melancholy. There stood an elf, tall and majestic, with dark hair that flowed in ribbons down his back and piercing eyes the color of which Merry had never seen before. "I am Elrohir, Master Meriadoc, son of Elrond," came the melodic voice that reached to Merry's very soul. Merry felt that his lips were permanently shut, for not a word squeaked past his tight throat. "Here, sit down for a while, young Hobbit," the expression on the elf's fair features showed delicate worry for this halfling.

Merry found that his legs would no longer support him and slumped back onto the seat, his eyes still wide with shock. The elf leaned back against the intricately woven railing of silver, and simply studied the Hobbit with sharp eyes that had the ability to see into any soul. Elrohir's eyes softened and he spoke with comfort, "Frodo will recover, Meriadoc. His wound, though great, has no power whilst in Elrond's house." Merry's chin quivered with emotion and his eyes sparked with a fire that raged from his soul, "But I could have prevented it, should have prevented it. Frodo is my cousin, and I simply stood by and let that, that THING do him such harm. I would rather have jabbed my sword into my own heart then have Frodo hurt in such a way." The elf's eyes locked with his and seemed to search for something, until finally Merry broke the contact, turning his head away with shame.

The young Hobbit stood to walk away, but Elrohir's firm voice stopped him, "You did try to save Frodo, Meriadoc. Your guilt is not from failing to try, but from failing to do." Suddenly, Elrohir knelt in front of Merry, reaching out to gently lay hold of the tense shoulders. Their eyes met, and Elrohir spoke, "You did all you could. The wraith's power far exceeds your own, Master Meriadoc, but you were there with Frodo when the blow was dealt, and you did all within your power to protect him." Merry's blue eyes filled with shimmering tears, until he could no longer see the stately form in front of him. His shoulders started trembling under the burden of holding the tears back, until the strong arms of Elrohir drew him close in an embrace that cleansed the Hobbit's soul, and the floodgate of tears finally broke forth.

The perfume of hundreds of flowers, mixed with the tears Merry cried, creating a healing balm to sooth the ache of guilt until there was nothing left but peace. There in a garden, Meriadoc found the healing he sought in the arms of an elf whose compassion compelled him to reach out, and in so doing discovered a gentle soul. Merry's head rested against the elf's shoulder, and finally he spoke, "Thank you, Elrohir. I," he hesitated slightly then continued, "could not see the truth. Though I may seem careless, family means far more to me then anything else in Middle Earth. When the wraith stabbed Frodo, it felt like I myself was being wounded to the heart. Now I see that I did what I could." Merry's eyes lifted with sudden joy to meet Elrohir's, "And Frodo will be all right!" That knowledge in itself caused Merry to laugh, and Elrohir's eyes lit with the joy from Merry's soul, and a smile graced his normally solemn lips.

"Come with me, Meriadoc, I believe it is time you found something to fill your stomach." Merry pushed gently away from the elf and nodded, "I can't even remember the last time I did eat, and for me that is amazing. You wouldn't happen to have any apples would you?" Elrohir could not hold back his rich laughter this time, "Yes, I believe Vasalye our chef has some apples in the kitchen." The pair started off in the general direction of the kitchen, smiling and talking, leaving behind someone neither had seen.

Pippin had noticed the anguish Merry was experiencing and had decided to speak with him, but had not scrounged up enough courage when Elrohir arrived. So he had simply stayed behind the lilac bush, watching and listening, hoping for some change in his cousin's behavior. The joy he felt could not be matched, but not wanting to be discovered, Pippin lay in waiting until all was clear. Then, standing silently, he followed.


	2. The Connection

**Imladris: Chapter Two - The Connection**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _The Lord of the Rings _belong to the franchises for Tolkien ™ and The Lord of the Rings ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** G

**Characters: **Merry, Pippin, and Bilbo

I never thought I'd actually post this on I wrote it about a year and a half ago, when _The Lord of the Rings_ reigned eternal in my mind. But I suppose it should be shared. Now I bring you Chapter Two I'll post the other chapters in increments.

>>>>>>>

Merry's laughter had never sounded so sweet to Pippin's ears before. The two were walking through a covered walkway permeated with the scent of flowers unknown to Hobbits, and Pip had spoken with his typical good humor, causing Merry to burst out with laughter. "Merry, I'm so glad you're back to normal." Pippin's eyes shone with gladness, and he couldn't hide it. His laughter slowly faded, but the smile remained as Merry looked thoughtfully at his cousin. "I couldn't see or, perhaps it was that I couldn't accept that Frodo was injured and I wasn't somehow at fault." Pippin's hand gently reached out and snagged one of the lush flowers that had fallen from an exotic plant.

"I understand, Merry. But perhaps not as much as you." Pippin's face expressed his slight confusion, but Merry only sighed lightly. "I can't explain it to you, Pip. But it's not something you need to worry about, since all will be well." But somehow Pippin knew this was something important in his cousin's life, and he needed to understand, for Merry as well as himself. Already Pippin had felt himself changing, maturing somehow, growing from Hobbit lad to Hobbit adult. His perception was deepening, and it was strange for him, and yet good for him too. "Frodo is our cousin," Pip said hesitantly, his hazel eyes narrowing, "and somehow that makes him responsible for us, and us responsible for him. When we couldn't help him, it almost felt like a," he stuttered slightly, "a part of me was dying with him." Merry's eyes were widening in amazement. His cousin really could understand what he was experiencing, for he had experienced it as well.

"But, I don't feel that now. Knowing that Frodo is recovering, has taken the sense of failure from my heart." Pippin looked carefully at Merry, as he spoke, "Does that make any sense at all?" Merry's smile held deep pride, "Yes, Pip. It makes the perfect sense." "Oh, good!" Pippin's relief was so evident that Merry chuckled. Pippin sobered quickly, however, "But I am still worried about one thing." Merry's gaze held a questioning expression. Pippin lowered his head so only his sandy curls showed, and stated softly, "Sam isn't himself." Merry sighed and pursed his lips, "I know. He hasn't been himself ever since Frodo was injured. If I felt this terrible about Frodo, I can't imagine what Sam must be feeling." Stopping abruptly at a stone bench, he sank onto it, "Frodo has had this "connection" with Sam since Sam was a baby. I saw it the first time I met Sam, and watched how Frodo treated him. It's rather along the line of how I feel about you, but also different." Pippin nodded slightly, "and now something is happening. Sam truly does blame himself, and he's worrying himself into illness."

Pippin looked at the near forgotten delicate bloom in his hand. It wouldn't take much to crush the life from the flower. Suddenly, the image of Frodo came to Pippin's mind. At this moment Frodo was like the flower he held. Delicate and weak, and Sam was his protector and guardian. But what Sam couldn't see was that with his care, Frodo was improving. Exactly like a flower, Frodo would grow and become himself again. Springing lightly to his feet, Pippin whirled to his cousin, who lifted curious eyes. "Bilbo can help him, Merry. I know it." The understanding was slow in reaching Merry, but at last he stood as well, excitement shining on his face, "If anyone could help Sam come back to us, it would be Uncle Bilbo!"

The two Hobbits were as swift and light as young hobbit children at play, as they made their way through the gardens toward Bilbo's room. A strong voice called for them to enter, nearly before Pippin's hand touched the door in a knock. He swung it open, to find Bilbo sitting at his writing desk with a quill in one hand and a map in the other. Turning, Bilbo gazed at them over the top of his map. "Well, my lads, what seems to be the trouble. Here sit down, before you fall down." Hurrying to obey, Pippin and Merry planted themselves on the edge of Bilbo's bed, and then just looked at him. Finally, Merry nudged Pip with his elbow, causing him to nearly jump off the bed. Bilbo waited patiently, smiling slightly for the antics of his nephews he well remembered.

"Bilbo, we're worried about Sam." "Yes, Uncle Bilbo, he hasn't been himself since Frodo was attacked," Merry hastily added. "Ah," Bilbo nodded his head, and placed his quill back on the desk. "I see, lads." "And I do know what you mean. I have noticed that whenever I come to visit Frodo, Sam is swift to find an excuse to fetch something from another room." The cousins nodded their heads in unison, as Pippin exclaimed, "He blames himself for what happened, Uncle Bilbo, even though it wasn't his fault." "As I can see you yourself have learned, Merry," Bilbo said wisely, with a crooked smile. Merry blushed to the roots of his golden hair, but nodded.

"I would assume that you wish for me to talk with him, is that it?" Bilbo asked, with all the intentions of doing so. Pippin spoke in earnest, "Yes, Bilbo. We would be so grateful if you spoke to him. Somehow I think he would take correction and comfort better coming from you, then from us, who have played many pranks on him." Bilbo smiled with remembrance, then stood to his feet with a slight groan, his aged hand going to his back. Pippin was at his side in an instant, which is when Bilbo noticed the flower he still held. Bilbo looked into Pippin's eyes, and saw the wisdom that was starting to form there, not fully matured, but there nonetheless. "The flower reminds me of Frodo," Bilbo said softly, "tender, delicate, and needing care that only a gardener with a good heart can give."

Pippin's smile shone like a beam of hope in a darkening world. Bilbo understood. And in his heart of hearts, Pippin knew that only Bilbo could heal Sam's heart. And he would too. The cousins gazes met, and their hearts clasped as they often had in the past. They both knew that all would be well, for Sam was not alone. With light hearts, Merry opened the door to Bilbo's room while Pippin rested one arm around the elderly Hobbit's back, supporting his gently. Once in the hallway, Merry and Pip stood aside, simply watching as Bilbo went determinedly down the hall toward the room were Frodo rested, and where a heart would soon be healed.


	3. The Guardian

**Imladris: Chapter Three - The Guardian**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _The Lord of the Rings _belong to the franchises for Tolkien ™ and The Lord of the Rings ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** G

**Characters: **Sam, Gandalf, and Bilbo

I never thought I'd actually post this on I wrote it about a year and a half ago, when _The Lord of the Rings_ reigned eternal in my mind. But I suppose it should be shared. Now I bring you Chapter Three Only one left to go.

>>>>>>>

Sam was exhausted from his constant vigilance kept over Frodo, but refused to sleep. The guilt and anger pressed in upon him, though everyone had attempted to shake it from his mind. Merry and Pippin were Frodo's cousins true, but Sam was his guardian, his protector, and now he felt that somehow he had failed in the calling. His eyes moved slowly about the room, vaguely admiring the magnificent tapestries with all the colors of the rainbow and the carefully designed tile floor. When he looked close enough, the tiles seemed to resemble a garden of flowers. But not even the delicious palate of colors could shake his melancholy.

Looking back to the bed he sat besides, Sam's heart swelled with immense sorrow. Frodo was so very pale and still; nearly every hour on the hour Sam checked to make certain he was still breathing. At the touch of his masters light breath against Sam's cheek, he sighed with relief and leaned back against his chair. The calm voice from behind didn't startle Sam nearly as much as when he heard it that fateful day in The Shire. "So here you still sit, Master Samwise." Sam's eyes met the kindly ones that twinkled with ancient wisdom, "Yes, Mr. Gandalf, I'd rather not leave him just yet." With a cautiousness that bespoke of old bones, Gandalf sat quietly down beside Sam, his eyes going from Frodo's white features to Sam's look of concern.

"Sam, Frodo won't blame you for what happened. As Merry has already learned there was nothing either of you could have done in saving him. The choice was taken from your hands." Though Gandalf's words were somewhat harsh, his gentle voice softened the impact of them. "It's hard for me to accept that, Mr. Gandalf. I was there with him, so close I could touch him, but there was nothing I could do to help save him. And I despise myself for it." The gentle voice cracked with emotion, as the soft brown eyes filled with dewy tears. The last words were spoken in a voice so filled with self-disgust, Gandalf felt compelled to turn Sam toward him. Tears were mixed with fire in Sam's eyes though they did not yet fall, and Gandalf could see into this Hobbit's very soul.

Sam couldn't face the wizard, and tried to turn away, but Gandalf's strong hand on his chin prevented any movement. "Sam, what will be, will be. We cannot stop the future from occurring or ourselves from looking back. But moving on is what makes us grow and learn, shaping who we are." A single tear slipped silently down the Hobbit's cheek, making a path through the anguish. Gandalf gently pulled Sam onto his knees, looking at him with affection and an understanding that could only come from long-learned and hard-won wisdom. "What about Mr. Bilbo, sir?" The question was forced from Sam in a hoarse whisper. "I couldn't protect Frodo when he needed me most; how can Mr. Bilbo even look at me straight?" "Very easily, my boy." Both heads turned in unison toward the hunched character standing in the doorway. Bilbo had aged considerably from the last time Sam had seen him, with nearly pure white hair, and several wrinkles that accented his chipper blue eyes. Sam hurried down from Gandalf's lap and stood before Bilbo with his head bowed, expecting a scolding like his Gaffer used to give him for being "cheeky."

"Sam, my lad, I could never blame you for Frodo's injury," the familiar voice said quietly. "You and he have a connection that I could never doubt, and I know you did all you could for him. Even now, here you are waiting for Frodo to awaken, when you could be outside watching the elves, for which you have a deep love."Listening to the words, Sam's head lifted inch by inch, until he could look at Bilbo directly. "As much as I love elves, Mr. Bilbo, I could never leave him, not like this." A knowing smile touched the edges of Bilbo's mouth, and he nodded, "I know, Sam. Which is why I'm glad that my boy has one as loyal as you. He could never ask for any better. You are the one who is bringing healing to Frodo, just as much as Elrond's touch. You are his gardener, Sam. Tenderly caring for him until Frodo becomes strong once more." A hesitant smile touched Sam's lips and then grew into a genuine grin that Bilbo and Gandalf recognized as the Sam they knew. Bilbo's frail hand gentle squeezed Sam's shoulder as he whispered, "Welcome back, Sam."

Sam looked at them both, standing there smiling at him, and his understanding finally came. He truly had done all he could, and Frodo would never blame him. A half-smile touched the corner of his mouth as he remembered. _Frodo always had been that way. Always loving, never blaming or condemning. _The memory of Leo Baggins came to Sam's mind. _I had thought myself guilty of some wrong doing. But Frodo knew better even then. Mr. Bilbo's wrong. It is I who am lucky to have Frodo. _Bilbo's firm voice broke into Sam's thoughts with a jolt, "Now, Sam, I know you haven't been eating much since you arrived and I'm sending you down to the dining area for a bite." Sam's mouth opened slightly, but Bilbo spoke first, "Now no arguments from you, my boy, your master will still be here when you get back."

Sam reached over and gently stroked Frodo's hand for a brief moment. Frodo's color was brightening. It was no longer the death shade of white, and his arm was warming again. Sam could see it now, Frodo's improvement, where his grief had blocked the knowledge out before Gandalf and Bilbo had spoken with him, healing him of the guilt and anger. His smile was brilliant and lit up Sam's entire face. "If you'll stay with him, Mr. Bilbo, I'll go." Bilbo's eyes crinkled and he nodded, "I'll stay with him Sam. There is nothing for you to fear, for Frodo is coming back to us even as we speak." Sam nodded then said, "Well, I'll go see if I can find Mr. Pippin and Mr. Merry." Gandalf laughed, "No doubt you will find them wherever there is food. Now be off with you, Samwise, and have no fear for your master." Sam gazed at Frodo once more, and then, with a smile playing at his lips disappeared out the door.


	4. The Awakening

**Imladris: Chapter Four - The Awakening**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _The Lord of the Rings _belong to the franchises for Tolkien ™ and The Lord of the Rings ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** G

**Characters: **Practically Everyone

I never thought I'd actually post this on I wrote it about a year and a half ago, when _The Lord of the Rings_ reigned eternal in my mind. But I suppose it should be shared. And here is the fourth and final chapter. I do hope you enjoyed my little tale.

>>>>>>>

The guest hall was filled with elves, singing in melodic voices, the sound of their laughter rippling like waves upon a shore. They were majestic; their hair streaming past their shoulders, their eyes piercing, and their features stern yet kind. Sam was seated quietly in a corner, watching the coming and going of elves with eyes wide with wonder, and lips slightly parted in awe. He had barely strayed from Frodo's room since they had first arrived at Rivendell, so being party to this feast was a gift he would not soon forget. Thanks to the healing speech of Bilbo and Gandalf, Sam's spirit was reviving and his hope was strengthening. Things would never be as they were before, but Sam could again see the good in Middle Earth, his guilt had lessened, and he was content.

Merry and Pippin whipped past on their way toward Elrohir and his brother Elladan, causing Sam's smile to widen. Those two had been such a comfort to him. He had expected reproach, even accusations, yet Merry and Pippin had treated him with the utmost kindness. Merry even reminded him a bit of Frodo to a degree. They shared the same blood so it was to be expected, yet Sam had been surprised. Sam's attentiveness toward the other Hobbits had grown by incredible bounds since being in Imladris, and he watched them now from beneath shadowed lids, his brown eyes shining with a protective light. They were so happy, their joy infecting anyone near them.

The elves seemed almost fascinated with their diminutive companions, for Merry and Pippin were not at all uncomfortable with the noble lords surrounding them, and were weaving tales of the Shire and their homes. Elrohir hardly left Merry's side, his smile briefly shining through whenever he laughed. The two had bonded and were now the closest of friends, which caused Sam to remember Frodo. **_Oh, how Mr. Frodo would love this. As soon as he wakes, I'll show him all I can before we start back for The Shire._** Somehow, Sam didn't even believe his own thoughts. The Ring had come this far, but would it be safe here, even here with all the power of the elves to protect the menace? Sam always had a special sense concerning his master, and even now he believed that their part to play in this battle was far from over.

**_What can one do against such an evil power as the Ring. It's like a leech that latches on tight and drains you of all that's good. _**Sam had grown to hate the thing his master carried, not for what it was, but for what it was doing, to him, to Frodo, to the whole of Middle Earth. The change in Frodo was only slight, but it was there nonetheless, sensed by the one who knew him best. The light touch at his shoulder snapped Sam from his dreams, and he turned to find the gentle eyes of Elrohir watching him. The elf spoke only two words, "He's awake." Sam jolted from his seat in a desperate motion, his eyes widening in shock and joy. "Go to him." Sam's lower lip trembling with unimaginable joy and gratitude welling 'til his heart felt like it would burst, Sam was out of the hall in the time it took for Elrohir to draw a breath.

Merry strolled over quietly, Pippin trailing him like a puppy, and questioned curiously, "What's happened?" "Your Ringbearer has awakened from his long and deadly sleep. All is well." Their eyes widened in such shock it caused a smile to dawn across Elrohir's fair cheeks. "We must go to him at once," Pippin demanded, absently bouncing on his toes in excitement. Merry's gaze locked with that of the elf's and he sighed softly, "No, Pip. We need to wait until Sam has had time with Frodo. He needs it, they both do." Pippin's eyes turned dejected, but slowly the wrinkles across his young brow smoothed away, and he nodded firmly, then turned back to his elf companions who had been abandoned in the excitement. Elrohir smiled down at his miniature charge and said, "You have learned much, Meriadoc." "Well, I had a good teacher, Master Elf. For now, Frodo needs Sam more then he needs me or Pippin. And I'm glad." Rivendell shone all the brighter, for the knowledge had now reached the ear of every inhabitant. The Hope of Middle Earth had been restored.

**Finis**


End file.
